


Fall For You

by Adair_Coffin



Category: Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-25 12:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adair_Coffin/pseuds/Adair_Coffin
Summary: Lorna and James and my take on what happened in the first 24 hours after their ship set sail.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just an exploration of what (probably won't) happen next, as the Good Hope sets sail for Ponta DelGada, but some of what I wouldn't mind. One-shot.

Lorna had felt the ship push off from the dock, heard shouts and more gunfire. Her arm was on fire, there was no other way to describe it, and, having never been injured by firearm before, an entirely new sensation. Pearl was sitting on the edge of the bunk. Lorna could hardly remember the girl grabbing her and dragging her below, out of harm’s way. Then fumbling as she quickly disposed of Lorna’s cloak and dress. Somewhere in her pain induced haze, Lorna remembered quipping that Pearl was quite good at removing clothing so quickly, which she thought had received a quick laugh from the girl... who then quickly helped her into the berth and ripped a piece of her own underskirt to wrap around Lorna’s injured arm.  
“Good God, that hurts”, she said, before closing her eyes.  
With her eyes closed, she recalled lines from plays, the letters Horace Delaney had written her in his own madness, her mother’s perfume, her father’s voice when he played King Lear. She would give anything to play Lear. Maybe in the New World…  
“It’s alright”, she heard Pearl whisper. Then the heavy tread above, the slow thud of a large body making its way down a small ladder, and she heard Pearl turn and get to her feet. Then she felt him, staring at her. It took her a moment to open her eyes, to turn her head. His eyes were full of concern. She would have mentioned it, if she weren’t so damned tired and in pain. Then she felt his hand. Slow, gentle, touch her shoulder, move his fingers in such a tender moment, she would have believed she were dreaming, if she didn’t get a whiff of gunpowder and blood and sweat coming off his clothes. She tried to smile, and he nodded.  
Then the darkness took her again. Somewhere, she heard Mr. Cholmondley asking for forgiveness. She hoped he received it.

Light woke her again. Like climbing a staircase out of the darkness, mounting until the little pin became a lantern. Which it was.  
James was sitting again at the berth. He had removed his hat and overcoat. His eyes gleamed in the light.  
“What is it”, she whispered.  
“How is your arm?”  
“Tolerable”, Lorna replied, trying to fathom this conversation. And it was tolerable. More powder burn than shot. She moved it a little.  
“Can you stand?”  
“That depends, where am I going?”  
He pointed with a finger to the ceiling. “C’mon.” He put an arm around her and helped her to sitting, then stood as she waved him away, swinging her legs over the side. Her shift rode up, and she heard him take in a breath. She had known for some time that he was not as immune to her as he would have her believe. Her eyes rose to meet his, and then she took a push and tested her feet, and her skirt fell to cover her leg. Then the ship listed, gently, but enough to throw her off balance for someone who had been laying down for the better part of a day. He reached out to catch her, hands at her shoulder and waist. She smiled and looked around. Robert was tucked into another berth sleeping, and Mr. Cholmondley, poor man, was breathing heavily, passed out.  
As suddenly has he had taken hold of her, he released her, and she steadied herself, climbing slowly up the ladder. It had turned to night, the sky lit up with stars above. A few men were moving around on deck, and the breeze caught her to remind her she was still in her shift and stays and not dressed. She shivered as they walked to the railing. The moon was half full, shimmering down on the water and it was so beautiful, she forgot about being cold or half naked on the deck of a ship captained by a man most thought was completely insane. The air was suddenly freeing, the spray coming up cleansing. She turned and presented James with a smile.  
“For someone who has been injured in a firefight with the King’s men, and managed to take down a few, you are in a good mood”, he said, putting his hands down on the rail.  
“I haven’t done that much traveling… I never knew how quiet it was out here-peaceful.”  
There was silence from above her, then, “it depends on which ship you are sailing.” Then, “are you cold?”  
“Yes, I didn’t think…”  
“Stay here a moment.”  
He disappeared across the deck and reappeared with a blanket, which he wrapped around. His hands stayed still for a moment, and Lorna held her breath. She heard his voice in her ear. “You fired on the King’s men, Mrs. Delaney. You killed at least one. You’ll not go back to England unless you’re in chains. Did you know that when you fired?”  
His hands were burning through the blanket. She stared out to sea. “Yes”, she managed to get out. “but my association with you assured that anyway, and one may as well hang for a sheep as a lamb.”  
That earned a chuckle, and his mouth moved away from her ear. “How long will it take us to get to America”, she asked.  
“We are not going to America, not yet, anyway.”  
“Oh, and where are we going? James, you promised people-“  
Her quiet tirade was interrupted by his movement, placing his hands on the rail, trapping her within his arms, his head coming to her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw a tiny smile, just faint enough to be recognized as such.  
“When I came back to England, Lorna Bow Delaney, I had nearly everything worked out…. I had a lot of time to plan, you see. But I did not reckon that my father would go and get married again.”  
“I-“  
“My sister…I was going to… take her away with me. But then I realized… it became clear. I wanted to punish my father for what he had done to my mother. So, I put a stop to it… I killed Zilpha.”  
“She committed suicide. You didn’t kill her. She was…very damaged.”  
“I caused that damage. It is my fault. And when I tried to right it, she died anyway…”  
Lorna turned and looked at him. His eyes were scanning the water, but they turned to her. “Why do you want to tell me this”, she asked.  
“You killed a soldier. Took aim and killed someone. Deliberately. Knowing that you could never come back or else you’d hang.”  
“So did you.”  
“I knew my stay was only temporary, no matter the outcome. You crossed a river to watch me get shot.”  
She shook her head in frustration, “not this again, I told you-“  
But she was cut off by his mouth on hers, felt his hand come to her cheek. A million thoughts flooded her mind, she managed to chase them away. Oh, the wonders of the new world.  
He pulled away, only slightly.  
“We are going to Ponte Delgado, in the Azores, to see Colonnade.”  
“Okay.” She felt dizzy. He was insane, had to be, but then again, perhaps so was she, now.  
“So tell me the truth, Lorna Bow Delaney, before I kiss you again, and take you below decks, and remove that blanket and the rest of your wretched clothing and put you down on my bunk and fuck you senseless-“  
“And is that what is going to happen?” She was trying to keep some indignation in her voice, but she knew she was failing. “Is this what you roused me for?”  
“-oh yes”, he growled. “So please confess to me why you crossed that river.”  
“This is insanity.”  
James’s pushed himself up against her, pinning her to the rail. The moonlight dazzled over the water, his breath was warm on her face.  
“Mmm”, he nodded. “You see, I can tell you about my sister… I think I could probably tell you anything. But there is just one thing I want you to tell me.”  
Lorna took a breath, closed her eyes, steadied herself, although with James Delaney wrapped around her she doubted she had very far to fall.  
“I think I may be in love with you”, she said.  
“And do you think that a wise choice?”  
“Obviously not”, she scoffed, regaining some of herself. “You’ll probably be dead before we even set eyes on Nootka Sound, if we ever get there. And Mr. Delaney-“  
“Oh, Mr. Delaney now, is it-“ Again, that half smirk/smile returned.  
“-MR. Delaney, as for your other suggestion as to future activities, I am quite tired and I am going to return to my berth to rest.” She shuffled out from his grasp, knowing full well that if he wanted he could simply pick her up and drop her overboard or take her to his own cabin. But she wasn’t having any of it. Not tonight. Not while thoughts of Zilpha Geary rang in his head. Not while she was in her shift, covered in dried blood, feeling a mess. Somewhere on this ship was her trunk of belongings and she was going to find it in the morning, and some water, and perhaps some tea…  
“Tomorrow,” Lorna continued, “you can tell me about Colonnade and what the next part of your plan is.”

“Tomorrow I’m going to suggest the same thing”, James replied calmly. “And the day after that as well.”  
She smiled, walked back up to him, placed herself on her tiptoes and kissed his lips, gently. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I crossed that river and watched you not get shot”, she said.  
Then she turned and slid away into the darkness.

James let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. A low whistle came from his left, and Atticus appeared, pipe in hand.  
“I told you she’s a steady old girl.”  
James groaned and gave him a warning look. “How much of that did you see?”  
“Just the part where you are going to bunk down by yourself tonight, Captain”, Atticus chuckled. “She’ll come round.”  
Atticus walked on. James relaxed against the railing, looked at the moon. When he had returned to England, he had thought himself a dead man. But he was leaving a living man, a man who had a chance, if he played his cards right. Zilpha, his dear, dead Zilpha. He had once thought only her husband was the past, but she was there too, now, and there she would remain.  
Lorna, and the Americas, were the future.


	2. Into the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Good Hope is in the middle of a tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fall for You was supposed to be a little one shot, and then I couldn't get this visual out of my head. Then I thought of one more vignette, and how I could tie them together, so this will eventually be a 3 parter.
> 
> Note: A Haliae is a sea nymph. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you who read and comment, and to those who write. I am proud to be aboard this little ship with you!!!!
> 
> All formatting error/spelling, grammar are my own, and not intentional. I'm usually typing as I'm falling asleep and not as careful as I should be. Please enjoy!

Lorna Bow is restless.

 

It’s impossible not to be. The storm has been tossing the ship about for the better part of the afternoon. She guesses it’s nighttime, although who is to be sure? Still, she has had enough of watching the lantern above her bunk sway back and forth, and everyone else around her seems to be sleeping. 

 

She forgoes shoes or slippers, and makes her way up the ladder onto the deck, where she is promptly hit in the face with a spray of water. Rather than deter her from going further, she revels in the coolness. The rain is driving, soaking her simple dress, her arms. She pulls the pins out of her hair, lets it fall. There is a flash of lightening that bathes the ship in an eerie glow for a moment. 

 

The wind drives the ship to one side, and Lorna grasps for her balance, steadies herself, and makes her way across the deck, towards the Captain’s quarters. She’s not sure why she’s heading in this direction. Despite James’ obvious reckless comments about certain activities he would like to engage her in, and her own admission that she may indeed have fallen in love (and hadn’t she said herself that love was a kind of madness), there had been no further discussion of the topic, despite his promises to continue his pursuit. Part of her is a bit relieved. She isn’t sure how to approach him, just yet, and while his suggestion about taking her to his cabin and relieving some of this tension isn’t unwelcome, there is just so much that James Delaney carries with him. She needs to have a bit of air, even on this ship. She’s been sucked under as it is by his overwhelming presence in her life. 

 

And just as she is contemplating being drowned emotionally in the tempest that is James Delaney, a wave crashes over the deck, and lifts her off of her feet. She presses down the urge to scream, and instead throws her hands out for something to hold on to. Instead, something, or someone, grabs on to her. Her hands, flailing for a moment, find solid arms. James looks like an unholy angel, staring down at her as she realizes that he has saved her from being washed over the deck. She doesn’t care about his disapproval, she simply clings to him, desperately staring at him as if she would be washed away if she were to break from his gaze.

 

“Why are you up here”, she finally makes out that his mouth is moving, forming words, sounds.

 

“I…I wanted some air”, she replies. It sounds ridiculous. She shivers and figures she must look as ridiculous as she sounds, half drowned and clinging to him for dear life. 

 

He, on the other hand looks as if the storm had produced him. The rain does not drown him. Instead he shimmers, rivulets pouring over his face, down his neck, towards his chest. His eyes are bright like that flash of lightening. Lorna is sunk and she bloody well knows it.

 

Her hands wander from his arm to the bare chest where his shirt is pulled away, travelling up his neck. He doesn’t move, although she can feel the pulse under his skin, beating a rhythm.  
“You should go below, or inside…” he says, calmly. Does he ever blink? She realizes her hands are still exploring while he holds her steady. He has brought his face very close to hers, and she’s pretty sure she’s about to toss all of her convictions overboard in this moment.  
“Please don’t make me go back in”, she says in a tone that sounds desperate.  
After a moment he nods, and takes both her hands, leading her up the stairs to the quarterdeck. French Bill is currently at the helm, but at the sight of James, who must have been on his way to relieve him when he was distracted by her near drowning, he nods and hands over the wheel. James pulls her gently in front of him, within his arms, as he steers the ship. Or not steers, he corrects her, but simply keeps it steady as possible through the storm. Then she turns to face him. Her hands land on his stomach and start a plane up and down. Her mouth nips gently at his neck, sucks the water away. She feels as if she is dreaming, floating in water. Her actions are her own, but she feels entranced. He continues to hold the ship steady, but her hands are now under his shirt, mouth at his chin, cheeks, and the corners of his mouth. She is drinking him in. She thinks she hears him say, “Haliae”, but in the wind, she cannot be sure. His body moves against hers, and whether that is on purpose or the ship being tossed by a wave, she doesn’t care.  
Lorna is unaware of how long this goes on for, but soon she can feel the change in the atmosphere. The winds are not so brutal, the rain not so driving. The patter is no longer stimulating but soothing, and Lorna feels her eyes closing, just as her mouth meets his in what may be the gentlest kiss she has ever felt. The last thing she remembers before James hands the wheel to Atticus and lifts her up is the sky turning from churning black to steel gray.  
In her dream, James does as he promised- takes her back to his bunk, removes their wet clothing, and does wonderful, terrible things to her that cause her to utter noises she didn’t know she could make. But she wakes to find that while she is in the Captain’s quarters, Pearl is there, humming a sweet tune, and putting butter on bread. Lorna sits up. She is wearing a clean dry nightgown, but her hair is still damp.  
Pearl turns and smiles. “Good morning. Mr. Delaney’s giving the cabin over to us, since we’re the women on board. Nice of him, ain’t it?”  
Lorna nods, and Pearl hands her a mug of tea, as if she can read minds. After a sip, Lorna says, “How long have I been asleep?”  
“A few hours. Bill woke me and said I was to come and bring all our stuff here, per the Captain. Mr. Delaney was here asked if I could change you into something dry. What were you doing out in that weather?”  
Lorna smiles. “I needed some air.”  
“Hmm, well, hope you got it. Anyway, the day’s fine now. We can go sit up on deck.” Pearl hands her a plate.  
Lorna realizes that sun is indeed coming in through the windows of the bright little cabin. She smiles at her roommate. 

 

James is conferring with Atticus when Lorna steps out of the cabin. Her curls, although tamed by a scarf, are still free, and her blue dress sets off her hair. Here on his ship she looks like a mermaid finding her legs. He notices that her feet are bare. Not a mermaid, he corrects himself. His own haliae.  
He hasn’t given up on wanting her, on making her his own. Last night he had seen her, coming across the deck like a siren, soaked through, and thought perhaps that he had called to her in one of his dreams. It seems almost silly, in the bright sunshine that has finally found them. But last night he would have followed her overboard. He was tempted, after her ministrations at the helm, reckless as the storm, to conjure a link between them, to show her all that could be, then to climb into that bunk after her. But he will not enter her dreams. She will come to him of her own volition, he knows. And that will be more than enough.  
This morning, she catches him staring, and smiles.


End file.
